Anecdotes of one Hawaii-girl's fury, humor and warmth in a cold cold world

Monday, October 29, 2012

Trying To Take A Stand

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shaded area ≠ ideal

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I may give up on standing upright. Thisshit'sjust not working for me.

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First there were the Thighs Of Great Chunkiness. They're too thick to both exist, I reasoned; so powerful there can only be one, like the Highlander. That's why I wear holes in my jeans and have to choose which leg one kind of goes in front of the other. They're a natural Venn Diagram (Thigh-agram?) of too much snackfood.

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Then came Major Weight Loss and his Not All Your Flaws Were Because Of Weight After All brigade, to point out that I was hugely duckfooted (Thanks ballet! You were expensive, time-consuming and overly competitive!) and that because I had been turning my feet out during my formative years, my kneecaps don't line up with my feet; when my knees are pointed straight ahead LIKE THEY SHOULD, my feet are still out-turned. When I line my feet up with 12 o'clock, my knees are looking in at each other. (Thanks again, ballet! I'm permanently malformed! And I can't imagine it could ever possibly adversely affect me as I grow older!)

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Meh. Howdy howdy howdy!

Just when I thought Nurture could take Weight's place as whipping-boy, Nature also piped up to inform me that I've inherited my mother's lockleg over-extension issue; when I try to just stand, my knees lock into a freaky concavity that should be impossible on a homonoid frame. So I try to stand with my knees ever so slightly bent, so that my legs look like they go straight up and down, but it's hard to feel natural while doing it, or to not overshoot a little and go around bandy-legged as a cowboy.

I've weighed the options for stances to help me with all this; they all have their issues.

It's time to admit it, fair's fair. They've got me coming and going; circumference, vertical, and horizontal alignment, it's all effed. I'm just going to walk in whatever way I can still manage, get where I need to go, then either hunker down into a hunter-gatherer squat, or sprawl out like a samurai. Ganbatte, me.

GB: As a jungle creature, I imagine you're familiar with tropical heat and humidity. But could you picture it without trees or rain?

I lived in a town that was once a sandalwood forest. When Caucasian explorers "discovered" it, they stipped the place to trade the sandalwood in China. The area can no longer attract rain, and we get less than 2 inches a year. Clear skies, forever, in the tropical heat.

After 20 years of oozing everywhere in a snail trail of sweat, I moved somewhere I could wear scarves, see leaves change, and experience dry underarms. It was for the best.

I recently made the discovery, or rather, someone told me about body types and how I'm a V: broad shoulders, slim hips, and long arms. I can stand upright, but I look like the guy who features on a set of doors in a lot of establishments.

You're famous, how outstanding! Your 15 minutes of fame have been going on for generations before your birth.

In all seriousness, though, I think that may be a bit of a proportional exaggeration. Remember, I have seen you, and I am not only a line artist who therefore sees everyone by their outlines, but also a very judgy lady who would've seen it if it were true. Streamlined you may be, but you are not that brick wall of a cartoon dude!